Sunrise.

Mar. 1st, 2017 03:38 am
hextraterrestrial: Hextraterrestrial (Default)
The sun had crest the eastern hills over an hour before. Fred had been so adamant about the newsfeeds that he neglected the clock. He had to force himself away from his phone and he finally had to admit it. He had to repeatedly tell himself that he had an internet addiction. He couldn’t help it. He did. Thousands of hours squandered staring at plastic. Admittedly, he had learned tons of things and many times it was fun but so many countless hours had been lost in Cyber La La Land that it was seeming a distraction. It was as if there was something in there. Something so profound, so sapient, that if found, deep space might divide in upon itself birthing a whole new dimension. Like there really was an artificial intelligence in there; or a living spirit? A literal Ghost(s) In The Machine? If this were so, Fred simply had to know. Similar to Neo’s quest in the final Matrix movie (Note to self: Anagram of Neo is One; or “The One”). If this computer intelligence was sentient, that means it probably had a soul. If it had a soul… it belonged to God’s family tree. He couldn’t just quit the interwebs now.

The Temple of Ten Thousand Buddhas was bustling with various activities. As Fred approached through the main arch of the temple gate he noticed it was mostly pedestrian traffic with a few stray brown and orange robed monks moving about. The yard keepers peppered the hedges and grass trying to keep up with the meticulous grounds. Fred curbed his enthusiasm. He was getting too excited. Fred had always felt exuberance when meeting up with old veteran buddies. Old teammates. Old Battle Buddies.

Even after his accident, Fred’s amnesia had failed to erase most of his memories of the war in Iraq – those memories were lucid, deeply cut into his synapse super highway. So he did not forget that today he was to be at this Buddhist temple to meet his old pal “Guci”, also known by his more private and affectionate title of “Gooch” or “Red Gooch”.
They had met during basic training. They were in the same training unit and deployed to the same base in Spain together. Through and throughout the war they experienced much together as soldiers and as friends. After discharge they had both been swallowed by the great vastness known as America. But today was a date they had promised to be here. It was a promise made the day Guci had earned his name Red Gooch. Fred flashed back:

It was sometime early July, ‘03 Baghdad Iraq. 06:50 eight man dismounted patrol. Haifa Street. The heat was already pushing seventy eight degrees. It was dingy, dusty and dirty. The civilians of Baghdad were just beginning to bustle out into the early morning streets -except for a pack of wild children who were already bright eyed and bushy tailed tracking his squad up the ally. Fred had to hand it to those kids, they were consistent little buggers. They would always seek out and find our patrols. They either wanted money, candy, or some type of American trinket. To the kids who perceived us as American liberators (or who simply were not afraid of us) we must have seemed liked we were Marco Polo’s personal entourage; hauling exotic and legendary Americana goods – or some shit like that.
The only drawback was twofold: We weren’t merchants and children were personal and private liabilities. That’s what Fred’s unit had learned by the third dismounted patrol: Always carry a billy club (a stick, baton or asp would also suffice). They had to literally beat those kids just to keep them away. For Fred and others it was a double edged sword though. Some of the soldiers actually had liked having the kids around. They could fetch things from the city for us. They had given our squad tips on the bad guys. The Americans had taught the locals kids handshakes and curse words. They enjoyed their reprievable attitudes despite that they didn’t understand a word those kids said besides “Mister, Mister” and “Michael Jackson”. Many soldiers liked them because children acted as good human shields.
This gave them a (albeit false) sense of security. Even the insurgents were not heartless, so the chances of us getting shot at, or blown up with kids near or around our patrol was greatly reduced. The flip side of that coin was that not one of us wanted to see children get slaughtered - with or without one of our own. So we carried clubs and literally hit children when they came too close to us. No matter what the horrified civilians thought of us as wood met kneecap and a shrill cry pierced the air.

Sergeant Taniguci was on point. He had just yelled at and whacked a kid in the knee with his shillelagh. A group of five men were alerted by the sound of the child’s cries. One of them, apparently the father, began angrily screaming and suddenly produced a pistol pointing it at Guci, as six out of eight thumbs flipped off the safety of leveling rifles.

Guci reacted as any good soldier should. He diverted the pistol and lunged at the man. The pistol fired and three more rifle shots were heard blasting behind him. The remaining civilians and children scattered back. Soldiers were yelling at others to keep back. Guci and the assailant struggled for a moment before the civilian went limp. When Sergeant Taniguci finally stood, with the secured pistol in his hand, his face was splattered and dripping with blood. It was only then that it became cognizant to the whole squad that one of the young boys had received the pistol shot to his face. He lay dead in the street with gaping head wound spilling red into the gutter.
Sergeant Taniguci might have survived that scenario less scathed until he had worked out that all the blood on his body and face was that of the deceased child. Fred had watched as if in slow motion as the realization befell Guci. It was in this moment that Taniguci had died and Red Gooch was born in his place.
Upon returning to the F.O.B., one of the other squads was mounting up to leave. A soldier from the outbound Charlie squad saw Gooch clearing his rifle at the gate and referred to him as “Red Gooch”. This was overheard and the name had stuck with Gooch throughout the rest of the war. That night at the Forward Operations Base, after washing the blood from his face, Red Gooch had asked Fred to be there and witness the day of his eventual amends. Fourteen (plus) years later, that day had finally come.

Fred had meandered his way trough the temple gardens. He came to a pause in a secluded area next to a group of chest high statues depicting various Asian monks. Eight in total. “Ah!” exclaimed Fred to no one in particular. “The Eight Immortals!” They were the Chinese version of civilizations mythological birth. They could also be symbolic for the eightfold path of Buddhism. Fred reached into his inner coat pocket retrieving his rolled herb. He lit it up thinking to himself, “This eightfold concept is encoded in sigil magic and sacred geometry as two interlocking, canted squares; or the eight pointed star. The eight pointed star was also the symbol for chaos and chaos magic(s). Eight was also “The Egg of Life”. The number eight was also the icon used to represent the symbol for infinity”. He took another pull of his smoke as a Buddhist painting came to his mind.



Fred had been in deep concentration over the concept of infinity when a familiar voice from behind him spoke. Fred froze in place letting the speaker finish his statement before turning around.

“And God said, ‘Behold, I have given you every herb bearing seed, which is upon the face of all the earth, and every tree, in the which is the fruit of a tree yielding seed; to you it shall be for meat.’ Genesis 1:29 King James Version”.

Fred turned smiling. Meeting Zakari Taniguci eyes, Fred quickly looked over the orange clad man before rushing over to embrace his buddy in a big bear hug. “You old sonofa bitch! Look at you! You’ve lost weight!” Fred exclaimed putting Gooch back on his feet. Zakari Taniguci was a tall guy for an Asian dude. He was slightly over six feet and well built. The guys in the Army gym would always beg him to do his best Bruce Lee impression which he had done many a time and very convincingly. Zakari’s attitude had always been playful and light hearted. Even after earning the nickname Red, he was a funny guy. It was just that his humor had turned rather dark after that incident on Haifa. And he was smart. Sharp as a razor that one.

‘I’ve eaten nothing but rice, vegetables and bean curd since last year,” Gooch spoke. “it’s worse than Jackson’s cooking in the mess hall.” With that, they both laughed. It was good to see a familiar face thought Fred. A face from his past. A face that he could actually remember.

“Jackson would fuck up cooking a Cup of Noodles” Fred retorted. They both laughed again smiling. Signing with his hand as if to invite, Zakari started down the trail. He spoke as Fred walked the path besides him.

“I have been studying here for five years now and I have transcended many levels. Seeing you now fills me with joy. At the same time I am concerned for you.” Zakari stopped walking placing his hand on Fred’s shoulder. He looked Fred in the eye as he said, “I can see your aura and your disposition. I also see that you are ill of the liver and lung. I had to speak of this and warn you before we continue. You can heal these ills if you act now. Get it together Captain! You know physical fitness is the key to the warriors mind!”

Fred was still juggling that statement, speechless. And as if he was a fast acting cuddle fish, Zakari’s face flashed into a beaming smile as he guided Fred along the path once again. “I recently have come out of a vow of silence and isolation chamber. My mental acuity is highly sensitive at the moment. My heart seems a gold core heated white. My soul is everywhere and nowhere at once. I see you and I see you are tinged in yellows and greens. You are troubled and your mind harbors dark black clouds. I feel as if this day is more about you than I. What troubles you so Cap.?

Fred was stunned. Gooch had literally cut right through him like he was invisible. “Well, um..” he fumbled. “Yeah, you are right. I’ve been smoking like a chimney and had a serial love affair with the bottle. I know better. I can do better. But I’m in a jam.” Fred confessed. “I’m lost.”

“Lost Boys” Zak chimed in, still beaming.

Fred continued, “I’m lucky to be standing here Gooch. Something happened to me since I last saw you. The problem is I don’t really know what. I woke up in the hospital a few months back and I’m missing time. I have whole chunks of memories missing. I remember how to tie my shoes, I remember my favorite foods, I remember my guitar, I remember my mom and my first dog’s name. I remember the war and you… but I don’t remember the last few years. Something happened.”
Fred stopped walking putting his hands to his head. He felt his forehead for a moment before highlighting a faint pink scar over his temporal lobe with his index finger. “I think it was the military but I’m not sure. I don’t remember what I was doing for years before I woke up in the hospital. According to the ward’s paperwork I had been in the hospital only three days. I was under a drug induced coma man! I awoke not even knowing where I live or who my current friends where! I’m lucky to remember you!” Fred huffed. “I can remember most my life up until 2012. Then there is a foggy blank until December 2016. If it weren’t for my phone and laptop I never would have found you or remembered to meet you here. I’ve been driving around for days in a daze trying to piece it together.”

“Are you confident you did not just hit your head on something? Or perhaps you got hit by something?” Zakari countered.

“Dude, look at this scar!” Fred leaned in. “It’s surgical. And!” Fred toned his voice down. “And it looked like it had been healing for longer than three days! Or like it was an advanced healing procedure. I’ve been tagged like cattle bro. I’ve been noticing things…” Fred trailed off.

“Do you remember our company?” Zakari asked.

“Knight-Tech.” Fred grinned. “I cant remember the programming languages, I cant remember all the math. But I do remember our work, especially our field work.” Fred allured. “The last I remember you and I, was back in twenty-ten when we got shut down. We had built our multi-tiered security servers, initiated the Second Vortex Motion Code based off your Divine Proportion Theory. My Parthenon executed the Fibonacci Sequence Disharmonizer initiating the Phi Ratio Amplifications… readings were phenomenal then ‘poof’, the power outage. Next day funding was pulled and two days later the lab was robbed. We bugged out two weeks later. Your texts unlocked my memories of you coming to the monastery and..” he paused, “that I should be here today.” Fred chagrined as his shoulders slumped.

Zakari said “Do not fool yourself Mudi. If it were not for you I would not be here today. I would be an Army statistic on veteran suicide. I have overcome all of that previous psychological baggage with determination and perseverance. But I was originally inspired to pick myself up because of you. No matter your missing time for the moment and please follow me.”
Fred crushed the still burning roach between his fingers completely snubbing it. He ripped the paper spilling its contents in the grass, balled the paper up and dropped it in his cargo pocket. His brow furrowed but he silently complied and walked along with the… Monk. It sounded strange. It looked stranger. Seeing Gooch in Buddhist garb? Ha. Bullshit. But not nearly as strange as the Caucasian Buddhist they silently passed under the pagoda.

Fred always thought American Caucasian and European Caucasian people looked “fake” in a Buddhist uniform. Even though Gooch was an American, he was a Japanese American. He spoke Japanese. He had Chi in his blood. Western peoples had to be truly diligent to “get it” in Fred’s opinion. Although China and Japan are very different much of their spiritualism is similar. So he quietly scoffed when he saw the white Buddhist in passing. “Pretender” he thought. Buddhism was a lifestyle, not a summer vacation.

Was that just a white on white hate crime? He wasn’t sure. Can one be prejudice of ones own race? He wasn’t sure of that either. He pondered the ideas as well as pondering where Gooch was taking him. Fred looked for the corner of the block and read the street sign, “Patience Way”. Fred rolled his eyes.

At the bend of the road Zakari approached a parked vehicle. Fred was vehemently shocked out of the ancient mysticisms of Asia and into the common era of Americana at the sight of Gooch producing some car keys from within his robe and with a beep, popped open the trunk of a raised, blue Toyota Land Cruiser. Gooch nabbed his old-school army pack and locked the trunk. He slung the pack over one shoulder, turned to Fred smiling and started jogging off of the path, across the grass. Fred noted he was headed towards the wood patch across the glade. He sighed and started running after Gooch.
They dipped past the middle of the glade before running up a slight hill into the shade of the oak trees. Zakari trotted up to a mossy granite outcropping at the top of the hill. He proceeded to climb a huge ten foot bolder that was split in two angling pieces. He sat on top of one half in the lotus position. He gestured to Fred to join him on the other side. Disgruntled, Fred precariously climbed the other side. He sat cross legged facing Gooch. Sweat was stinging his eyes as Zakari spoke, “I prepared this yesterday. It’s against fire code but it is a special day.”

He opened his bag producing kindling and paper. He produced a small tea pot and two tea cups. Gooch took a loose stone from on top of the bolder. Between the crevasse of the spilt bolder Gooch placed the stone which had bridged the gap well. He placed some paper and kindling on the stone. Ahead of him, Fred handed Gooch his lighter with a smile. Saying some lengthy Tibetan prayer, Gooch lit the fire. He smiled and said clearly, “Authentic black tea from Iraq!”

Squinting Fred perked up a bit. “Did you just say Iraq tea? How old is it?”

Zakari burst out laughing. “It’s fresh, well kind of. I got it about six months ago from a monastery liaison. It’s not like it is …what? Fifteen years old?” He laughed again. “No. No it is still fresh. Relax.” He took a bottle of water from his pack and poured some into the pot and placed it on the fire. The smell of burning wood filled Fred’s nostrils. It was the fragrance of home.

Fred asked, “What was that prayer you spoke?”

“Oh, it was not a prayer really.” Said Zak. “Nor a mantra. I’ve been learning to speak Tibetan and what I said was actually a recital from Kahil Gibran’s The Prophet. In English it goes,”

‘Then a hermit, who visited the city once a year, came fourth and said, Speak to us of Pleasure.
And he answered, saying:
Pleasure is a freedom-song,
But it is not freedom.
It is the blossoming of your desires,
But it is not their fruit.
It is a depth calling unto a height,
But it is not the deep or the high.
It is the caged taking wing,
But it is not space encompassed.
Ay, in very truth, pleasure is a freedom-song.
And I feign would have you sing it with fullness of heart; yet I would not have you lose your hearts in singing.’

Zakari closed his eyes while pressing his hands together and bowed his head. On his exterior Fred was seemingly unimpressed. But on his inside his gut wrenched. Fred then asked, “What about Tibetan teachings?”

“Off of the top of my head?” Gooch wondered. “Well, it would be easier in Tibetan but here you go:”

‘The Lord: What do you think, Sariputra, does it not occur to any of the Disciples and Pratyekabuddhas to think that ‘after we have known full enlightenment, we should lead all beings to Nirvana, into the realm of Nirvana which leaves nothing behind’?”
Sariputra: “No indeed, O Lord”
The Lord: “One should therefore know that this wisdom of the Disciples and Pratyekabuddhas bears no comparison with the wisdom of a Bodhisattva. What do you think, Sariputra, does it occur to any of the Disciples and Pratyekabuddas that ‘after I practiced the six perfections, have brought beings into maturity, have purified the Buddha-field, have fully gained the ten powers of a Tathgata, his four grounds of self-confidence, the four analytical knowledges and the eighteen special dharmas of a Buddha, after I have known full enlightenment, I shall lead countless beings to Nirvana?
Sariputra: “No, O Lord”
The Lord: “But such are the intentions of a Bodhisattva. A glowworm, or some other luminous animal, does not think that its light could illuminate the Continent of Jambudvipa, or radiate over it. Just so, the Disciple and Pratyekabuddhas do not think that they should, after winning full enlightenment, lead all beings to Nirvana. But the sun, when it has risen, radiates its light over the whole Jambudvipa. Just so a Bodhisattva, after he has accomplished the practices which lead to the full enlightenment of Buddahood, leads countless beings to Nirvana.” Almost methodically, Gooch closed his eyes and pressed his hands together, dropping his head again.

Fred mused, “What if you don’t believe in Nirvana?”

Zakari glared as his voice dropped. “The Lord hath a controversy with the inhabitants of the land, because there is no truth, nor mercy, nor knowledge of God in the land. By swearing and lying, and killing, and stealing and committing adultery, they break out, and blood toucheth blood. Therefore shall the land mourn, and everyone that therein shall languish, with the beast of the field, and with the fowls of heaven; yea, the fishes of the sea also shall be taken away. Let no man strive, nor reprove another: for thy people are as they that strive with the priest.”

“Whoa. That’s a bit harsh… no?” asked Fred.

“Immutable principle. A Spiritual truth. Atheists are fools.” stated Gooch with a touch of Red. He lifted the lid on the pot checking for steam and added a bit more wood.

“I thought Buddhist don’t believe in ‘God’ per say?” asked Fred.

“God is just a name. Just as Divine Intelligence is just a name. It is more a question of context and classification than ideologies. The Grand Architect, the Master Builder, The Overseer, Zeus, Buddha, Jesus… whatever you want to call it. They are all names referencing a higher power. A higher intelligence. They all refer to a superior, all knowing, all powerful being. Buddhist know these entities well. The western term ‘God’ is a personification of something that cannot even be imagined by the human mind. Let alone contained in a simple three letter word.” Zakari philosophized.

Steam was rising from the tea pot as Gooch finished. He poured two servings of the dark brown liquid and passed a cup to Fred. Gooch held out his cup to toast as Fred raised his cup as well. “To healing and enlightenment. May your memories come to you. Sei cho no Iye.” Fred bowed his head respectfully and drank deeply.

Insights

Feb. 21st, 2017 11:14 pm
hextraterrestrial: Hextraterrestrial (Default)
Fred had been waiting for the dawn. His phone was overloaded with messages and email since the image had leaked onto the web. People were getting furious over the ramifications. Many more people were beginning to get curious. Even motivated. One of his emails was particularly inspiring, stating the that the information had given her a new found hope. A new reason to live.
Fred thought of something he had read years ago. It was an article that discussed the importance of vocabulary. The writer described that people with a larger vocabulary set were generally happier in life because they had more words to define their perception of the universe. People with a limited vocabulary had less terms to define things, therefore their concepts of the universe were limited in scope. Which increased the likelihood of depression, lack of imagination and anxiety issues.
The concept were as deep as the ocean but Fred had known about the image for years; for him it was old news. He was far beyond in the "Theory of the Cube" by now. He needed to let the "Machinations of Men" work their course. Fred chuckled thinking, "Funny how a small breath could cause a hurricane." he lit another smoke and coughed upon inhaling. "Damn." he thought. "If it wasn't corporate espionage that would eventually kill him, it would be these fucking cigarettes that did."

Fred was waiting in front of the Temple of Ten Thousand Buddhas. He was contemplating the concept of idols versus so called "false" idols. Was an image of Buddha a false idol? Technically no. Most the statues of Buddha look similar. They all seem to depict his likeness. This made sense considering plenty of art and written depictions of Buddha were drafted while Buddha was still walking around. But the Christians and Jesus? That seemed to be another matter entirely.

Most Christian churches that Fred had ever been in had paintings of Jesus on the wall. For the most part, Jesus looked similar in all the artwork Fred had seen. A caucasian, with long wavy locks and a beard. What were the odds that Jesus was white? What were the odds that Jesus was even his real name? Jesus meant "little Zeus", so why don't preachers address this fact? Why don't preachers ever talk about the present avatar of the Christ being based off a painting distributed to American soldiers during WW2? Those depictions are a false portrait. Yet most Christian churches around the world have this avatar pronominally displayed as their main focal point. Fred had seen hundreds drop to their knees before this false idol and pray to it. Wasn't that sacrilege? Didn't the Biblical Jesus say to pray to his Father in Heaven? Then why did people pray to a statue?

According to pagan and occult studies Fred had studied, praying to a statue charges that statue. Which meant that most peoples prayers in church were being misdirected to a material object?

Who knows? But it gave Fred and interesting thought. "If there was such a technology, I wonder if a metal crucifix could have advanced equipment attached to it and "catch" or "read" people's prayers?" Whoa. Crazy thought, he let it go into the ether. Philosophies were never concrete. It was all too subjective and abstract. People would argue for years over the particulars, even willing to go to war over words written thousands of years ago. Where people just gullible and stupid? Or was there really something to all of this dogma? Well, that was why he was at an Oriental Temple. He wanted an outside perspective. Since it was only 06:00, he had to wait for the monks to come out of their sleeping chambers.

Bored, Fred began to day dream. The sun had not risen just yet but was pushing the darkness back across the vault. His breath steaming the in cold morning air, Fred opened his phone. He was cold. But he was glad he still wasn't back in Montana. That place was really cold at this time of year. Being in a frigid California morning in February was nothing compared to a February morning in Montana. He thought back to his days there as a painter. It was remote and quite. There were no friends or family to pester him and he didn't go out much. It was a perfect place to get a lot of painting done. And he had too. In about eight months time Fred had painted nine quality pieces that would have made great prints or shirts. Only he didn't remember where they were now. That was before his accident. Now he had the military and the collective on his back and there wasn't time to dabble in paints anymore. Even if he hated the weather, he did miss Montana. He opened his phone to a surprise. The first notification on his phone had something to do with none other than Montana! He clicked the link:

Mr. Montana written and performed by G.W. a.k.a. Canibus
Published on Feb 21, 2017
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dBS_nVUzJr4

Yo, Montana?

He didn’t, he didn’t pick up, uh
Let me try, let me try to get him on the line first and then once I have him, I’ll send you a message telling you to call me back

Mr. Montana, I missed your message
You wouldn’t understand what I’ve been dealin’ with brethren
The sand glass is empty and I ain’t got faith in nothin’
So I can’t pick up, I’m in a bunker

You never fronted, never sold me out
I apologize but that's not what this is about
This is about the direction the world's spinning in
Occupy Hip Hop with Lisa Fithian*
The powers that be are preparing for something
They definitely ain't preparing for nothing
I've been saying in my music for years
I tried to educate the audience - my peers
I tried to build with my brothers and sisters

Regardless of color or ethnic religion

Regardless of any financial position
It's tougher than talking to a brick wall
Looking for help to build an Ark before Babylon fall
The fate of humanity is tailor-made
We stuck between a rock and a razor blade
No substance - drunken - blinded by consumption
Marching towards our own destruction
Unawares, unprepared

Open they back - looking for spine, nothing's there, just fear

The horrible beauty, humanity deserves it
To be mass murdered - look at what they worship
Slaves and yet none of this pleases me
You know what I say, "The Dead got it easy"
We're Slaves and yet none of this pleases me
You know what I say, "The Dead got it easy"

Peace Nasir**, I missed your message
You wouldn’t understand what I’ve been dealin’ with brethren
The sand glass is empty and I ain’t got faith in nothin’
So I can’t pick up, I’m in a bunker

I can’t pick up, I’m in a bunker
The underground ain’t got nearly enough substance

Conspiracy Worldwide sterilized
Alternative media radio stations got fired
All these little rappers still got dreams
They talk big money but they got beans

The ones who got more they got more because they got yours
Either or they was on all fours
They're all just a bunch of whores

Security can't even afford lunch when they go on tour
The whole worlds a stage, all the way back to the Bronze Age
Man ain't a damn thing changed
So I don't care what they talkin' bout
They lie so much they ain't even worth calling out

They so far past being watered down they got cotton mouth
Bout to be starving from drought
Rap no longer educates the listener
Rap Music just Pacifies prisoners

A Bat is just a flying Rat, you a lying piece of crap
Underground rap, nothing but a trap
You saved the world and they don't even know your name, God.
Rap Music ain't got no graveyard
I wouldn't wanna' be buried there anyway
Fuck YouTube and pennies they pay
You see Montana? This what we up against
If this is all we got, then we ain't got nothing left
Hip Hop used to communicate ideas
That's right I got some smart ideas
I'm gettin' older and in all my years
I never thought music would manifest all my fears

Mr. Montana, I missed your message
You wouldn’t understand what I’ve been dealin’ with brethren
The sand glass is empty and I ain’t got faith in nothin’
So I can’t pick up, I’m in a bunker

I can’t pick up, I’m in a bunker
I told you, the underground ain’t worth nothin’
The underground ain’t got nearly enough substance


* Lisa Fithian is an American political activist and protest organizer. She began her work in the mid-1970s as a member of student government in her high school and at Skidmore College.

**Nazir is a Redguard member of the Dark Brotherhood of the Elder Scrolls universe. By Bethesda Studios. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pql29L1xpz4
hextraterrestrial: Hextraterrestrial (Default)
Follow your heart.



https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ORnYNaTZGUU

Lana Del Ray

"Born To Die"

Why?
Who me?
Why?

Feet don’t fail me now
Take me to the finish line
Oh my heart it breaks every step that I take
But I’m hoping at the gates,
They’ll tell me that you’re mine

Walking through the city streets
Is it by mistake or design?
I feel so alone on the Friday nights
Can you make it feel like home, if I tell you you’re mine?
It's like I told you honey

Don’t make me sad, don’t make me cry
Sometimes love is not enough and the road gets tough
I don’t know why
Keep making me laugh, let’s go get high
The road is long, we carry on
Try to have fun in the meantime

Come and take a walk on the wild side
Let me kiss you hard in the pouring rain
You like your girls insane
Choose your last words
This is the last time
'Cause you and I, we were born to die

Lost but now I am found
I can see but once I was blind
I was so confused as a little child
Tried to take what I could get
Scared that I couldn't find
All the answers honey

Don’t make me sad, don’t make me cry
Sometimes love is not enough and the road gets tough
I don’t know why
Keep making me laugh
Let's go get high
The road is long, we carry on
Try to have fun in the meantime

Come and take a walk on the wild side
Let me kiss you hard in the pouring rain
You like your girls insane
Choose your last words,
This is the last time
'Cause you and I
We were born to die [3x]

Come and take a walk on the wild side
Let me kiss you hard in the pouring rain
You like your girls insane

So don’t make me sad, don’t make me cry
Sometimes love is not enough and the road gets tough
I don’t know why
Keep making me laugh
Let's go get high
The road is long, we carry on
Try to have fun in the meantime

Come and take a walk on the wild side
Let me kiss you hard in the pouring rain
You like your girls insane...
Choose your last words,
This is the last time
'Cause you and I
We were born to die
hextraterrestrial: Hextraterrestrial (Default)
By Fiona Apple:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FRv4VQra2kc

I've been a bad, bad girl
I've been careless with a delicate man
And it's a sad, sad world
When a girl will break a boy just because she can

Don't you tell me to deny it
I've done wrong and I want to suffer for my sins
I've come to you 'cause I need guidance to be true
And I just don't know where I can begin

What I need is a good defense
'Cause I'm feeling like a criminal
And I need to be redeemed
To the one I've sinned against
Because he's all I ever knew of love

Heaven help me for the way I am
Save me from these evil deeds before I get them done
I know tomorrow brings the consequence at hand
But I keep living this day like the next will never come

Oh help me but don't tell me to deny it
I've got to cleanse myself of all these lies 'till I'm good enough for him
I've got a lot to lose and I'm bettin' high so I'm begging you
Before it ends just tell me where to begin

What I need is a good defense
'Cause I'm feeling like a criminal
And I need to be redeemed
To the one I've sinned against
Because he's all I ever knew of love

Let me know the way
Before there's hell to pay
Give me room to lay the law and let me go
I've got to make a play
To make my lover stay
So what would an angel say the devil wants to know

What I need is a good defense
'Cause I'm feeling like a criminal
And I need to be redeemed
To the one I've sinned against
Because he's all I ever knew of love

What I need is a good defense
'Cause I'm feeling like a criminal
And I need to be redeemed
To the one I've sinned against
Because he's all I ever knew of love
hextraterrestrial: Hextraterrestrial (Default)


1.) Morning Star Lake: A.) a bright planet, especially Venus, when visible in the east before sunrise. Symbolised by the Pentagram. B.)The Septuagint renders הֵילֵל in Greek as ἑωσφόρος (heōsphoros), a name, literally "bringer of dawn", for the morning star. The word Lucifer is taken from the Latin Vulgate, which translates הֵילֵל as lucifer, meaning "the morning star, the planet Venus", or, as an adjective, "light-bringing".

2.) Ward Peak: noun: A.) a separate room in a hospital, typically one allocated to a particular type of patient.
"a children's ward" synonyms: room, department, unit, area, wing "the surgical ward" B.) an administrative division of a city or borough that typically elects and is represented by a councilor or councilors. synonyms: district, constituency, division, quarter, zone, parish C.) Verb: archaic; guard; protect.

3.) Olympic Peak: A.)adjective of or relating to the ancient city of Olympia or the Olympic Games. B.) No mortal could visit Mount Olympus. C.) Olympia. A plain of southern Greece in the northwest Peloponnesus. It was a religious center devoted to the worship of Zeus and the site of the ancient Olympic Games. The statue of the Olympian Zeus by Phidias was one of the Seven Wonders of the World. D.) Jesus translates as "Little Zeus".

4.) Twin Peaks: Twin Peaks is an American television serial drama created by Mark Frost and David Lynch. It follows an investigation headed by FBI Special Agent Dale Cooper (Kyle MacLachlan) into the murder of homecoming queen Laura Palmer (Sheryl Lee) in the fictional town of Twin Peaks, Washington. Its pilot episode was broadcast on April 8, 1990 on ABC. Seven more episodes were produced, and the series was renewed for a second season that aired until June 10, 1991.

Twin Peaks explores the gulf between the veneer of small-town respectability and the seedier life beneath. As the series progresses, the inner darkness of characters who initially appeared innocent is revealed, and they are seen to lead double lives. Its unsettling tone and supernatural features are consistent with horror films,

5.) Pluto: Roman god of the underworld, from Latin Pluto, Pluton, from Greek Plouton "god of wealth," literally "wealth, riches," probably originally "overflowing," from PIE *pleu- "to flow" (see pluvial).

6.) Heaven's Gate: Gate to Heaven or/ Heaven's Gate was an American UFO religious millenarian group based in San Diego, California, founded in the early 1970s and led by Marshall Applewhite (1931–1997) and Bonnie Nettles (1927–1985).

7.) Devil's Peak: (in Christian and Jewish belief) the chief evil spirit; Satan. synonyms: Satan, Beelzebub, Lucifer, the Prince of Darkness, the Evil One; informal old Nick.

8.) Hellhole: an oppressive or unbearable place.

9.) Van Vleck: J. H. van Vleck established the fundamentals of the quantum mechanical theory of magnetism and the crystal field theory (chemical bonding in metal complexes). He is regarded as the Father of Modern Magnetism.

During World War II, J. H. van Vleck worked on radar at the MIT Radiation Lab. He was half time at the Radiation Lab and half time on the staff at Harvard. He showed that at about 1.25-centimeter wavelength water molecules in the atmosphere would lead to troublesome absorption and that at 0.5-centimeter wavelength there would be a similar absorption by oxygen molecules. This was to have important consequences not just for military (and civil) radar systems but later for the new science of radio astronomy.

J. H. van Vleck participated in the Manhattan Project. In June 1942, J. Robert Oppenheimer held a summer study for confirming the concept and feasibility of nuclear weapon at the University of California, Berkeley. Eight theoretical scientists, including J. H. van Vleck, attended it. From July to September, the theoretical study group examined and developed the principles of atomic bomb design.

J. H. van Vleck's theoretical work led to establish the Los Alamos Nuclear Weapons Laboratory. He also served on the Los Alamos Review committee in 1943. The committee, established by General Leslie Groves, also consisted of W.K. Lewis of MIT, Chairman; E.L. Rose, of Jones & Lamson; E.B. Wilson of Harvard; and Richard C. Tolman, Vice Chairman of NDRC. The committee's important contribution (originating with Rose) was a reduction in the size of the firing gun for the Little Boy atomic bomb, a concept which eliminated additional design-weight and sped up production of the bomb for its eventual release over Hiroshima. However it was not employed for the Fat Man bomb at Nagasaki, which relied on implosion of a plutonium shell to reach critical mass.

New Albion

Feb. 17th, 2017 02:55 pm
hextraterrestrial: Hextraterrestrial (Default)
Starbucks was packed. Fred hated standing in lines. His whole body and mind phrenetic. He hated typical social interactions. It was all shallow talk.

Hello. How are you?

Good; and yourself?

Fine.

Boom. That was where more conversations ended than not. Unless a stranger was brave enough to talk about weather, their work, or how long a wait this fucking line was. He didn't have time for shallow, watered down conversations. It was the end of days and if he wasn't being approached by superheroes or supervillains, he didn't want to speak with you (at least at the moment). So that was why he nearly excoriated the person that had just tugged on his arm. That was until he turned around to see who it was.

Standing before Fred was a young Asian kid in dark rimmed spectacles. He was most likely an older teenager judging by his expensive and trendy clothes. He had white, plastic coated wires streaming up from his waist to the earbuds in his ears. His hair was spiked off to the right, like those anime characters in comics. He was holding an Apple computer to his chest with both hands. The kid had a finger on either side wedged between the keyboard and screen. Fred immediately knew he was keeping the computer from hibernating. Somehow, this was Fred's cue to soften his scowl and bite his sharp tongue. "Yes?" Fred spoke.

"Hello Mr. Mudi" the boys voice clearly American english. "I followed you here from the congregation after you spoke. I have many questions regarding the pamphlets you distributed. May I offer to buy your coffee?"

Fred dropped his head, rolled his eyes, sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose simultaneously. Looking back to the little-trendster he said "Not here and thanks kid but I got it. We should chat outside." A space opened in the line and Fred shuffled forward.

"Oh I insist Mr. Mudi. According to my file on you, you make far less money yearly than I make quarterly. So this one is on me. Besides, I already ordered my straight black with your hot mocha on my app." The boy raised his eyebrows and pointed behind Fred.

Fred turned to see the employee placing the last lid on one of the two coffees before her. "Fred and Aiguo, your coffee is ready!" she shouted amongst the thrall. Fred raised an eyebrow with a smirk. "Aiguo" moved past the snaking line to collect the drinks. Turning with a wide smile, Aiguo walked passed Fred nodding towards the exit. With a slight "Hhmmmph" Fred trailed behind him.

It felt good to be outside. Not only was the crowd gone but the sun was actually shining for once! Fred lit a cigarette, totally disregarding the no smoking sign and the other patrons; present company included. Boy-trendy took to a table in the sun. He placed the coffees on the hexagonal table and extended his hand, "I'm..."

"Aiguo" Fred cut off as he firmly gripped the boys hand, shaking it. "I heard it inside" Fred sat with a plop and blew smoke out at the kid. "Let's cut through the shit shall we? Who are you really? And what do you want?"

Not even phased, Aiguo responded "Well you see Mr. Mudi..."

"Fred" he corrected.

Aiguo sat a little straighter, "Well you see Fred, I'm Aiguo Sīkōng and I represent a multinational conglomerate of syndicated libraries. Due to the nature of our pursuits and interests, I cannot give you my companies real name. But you can call us "The Sīmǎ Collective." Aiguo pulled a card from underneath his scarf, inside his gray cardigan vest. He extended the card to Fred.

Taking the card, Fred read it over. At first he didn't care so much for reading the text on the card. He was more interested in what the logo was. It was a coiling Chinese dragon printed in red. He glared at it for a moment, his eyes narrowing. He was looking through the image, into the negative space. It only took a few seconds then "POP" the logo "transformed" into the head of a horned demon. Fred leaned over fetching his wallet. He tried to speak as he filed the card into his billfold but Aiguo slipped in. "In your presentation today... or should I call it a sermon?" He waited for Fred to react which was null and void. "Anyhow, you gave an aphoristic overview of western religious ideology. You produced some images while speaking but they are not included in the pamphlets which you gave out. I'm here about those images and to get your take on the Asian philosophical belief systems."

Fred seemed amused as he spoke. "Those images are not to be released. The world isn't ready yet."

Aiguo responded. "What if I told you that we would be willing to purchase them?"

Fred frowned, "How old are you anyways? Sixteen?" he took a sip from his mocha.

At that Aiguo smiled. "Actually fifteen. I'll be sixteen next month."

Shaking his head, Fred spoke again. "Those images are not for sale."

"We will give you ten thousand dollars for the lot." Aiguo said.

"NOT FOR SALE!" Fred scowled.

Aiguo bartered down. "Ok. How about just one then? The one of Nor-Cal. I'll get you five grand for it."

"Are you kidding? That's worth a few million at least!" Fred blurted. "Why do you want it so bad anyhow?"

"You know why Mr. Mudi... I mean Fred. That image is explosive and will change the face of the earth. So to speak. May I see it?"

Fred knew the kid was right. He replied "Only if you put that phone and computer away".

If it were even possible, Aiguo sat up even straighter feigning surprise. "Why?"

Eyebrows collapsing into a black hole, Fred spoke. "You know why." In such a tone that the trendy-hipster complied without hesitation nor dissent. When the boy had placed the laptop and phone neatly on the ground, Fred reached into his leather jacket and produced a manilla envelope. He rifled through before pulling out a single piece of paper. He turned the paper around and slid it across the table top, fingers never leaving the edge. He let the boy look for approximately five seconds before snatching the paper back. He put it back into the envelope and then back into his jacket. Standing, he extended his hand. Aiguo looked confused but took his hand despite. Firmly shaking, Fred said, "I have your card and you obviously have mine. If your company is truly interested in these images, tell them that check better fatten up. Nice to meet you Mr. Sīkōng." Fred took a sip on his coffee and strode away. He never looked back.

Aiguo quickly grabbed his phone and pc. He pulled some black cable from his pocket. Opening the Mac, he typed some commands taking a victory sip of his coffee. He plugged the cable into the Mac. He then took his thick framed glasses off and plugged the cable into the glasses themselves. Aiguo sipped some more coffee, typed a few more commands and then unplugged his glasses. He put them away in his pocket. He sipped a bit more coffee. He then plugged his phone into the cable and began texting with a grin.



About ten minutes down the road and Fred got a text.

"Thank you for your time Mr. Mudi - Aiguo"
hextraterrestrial: Hextraterrestrial (Default)
Someplace in the lowlands of the west.

Fred steps out of a church. Behind him several people are asking him questions, hanging on his previously spoken words. The conglomeration of voices, drowning any coherency. Raising his hands, pleading for them to simmer, he spoke thusly:

"Yes. They are all ONE and THE SAME. Like that movie Looper with Bruce Willis. The Older Man played by Willis is named Joe. The young Joe played by Joseph Leonard Gordon-Levitt is the present paradigm of Joe. The "RAINMAKER" played by Pierce Gagnon (watchout for his shout!) is the future. The trick is... all three characters are ONE. Just check out the pamphlets I gave you and have a discussion with your Priest(s). It will sink in. We are in this together. I have to hurry now." With that, Fred quickly vanished from the crowd. He wanted to drive to Starbucks.











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